Blasphemer
by anathemaofyggdrasil
Summary: Gladiolus grew up surrounded by talk of the Gods, of the might of the Astrals. But he never put much stock in it. The attitude has unforeseen consequences, but reveals a threat to the prince that he can't ignore./Discontinued


**Author's Note: This fic is now discontinued.**

* * *

Gladiolus hefted his training sword over his shoulder, the big wooden weapon weighing close to twenty pounds. He and Noctis had just recently started greatsword training, which was challenging enough for the Amicitia after the last few years of broadsword practice. He was feeling it in his wrists though.

The eighteen-year-old swung it around and hefted it into the backseat of his car, along with his training gear which got thrown in beside the sword. He stretched his arms above his head, feeling a twinge from his most recent section of inking on his back, and looked out at the sleepy morning. Noctis's training sessions had been moved to the mornings to make room for his after-school activities and tutoring, but the prince hadn't been happy about it. Gladiolus couldn't honestly blame him. The fourteen-year-old had a lot on his plate.

Best not to tell him that. He'd feel entitled to complain.

"Gladio", his father's voice surprised him as he crossed around to get in his car, and he looked over the roof to Clarus.

"Yeah?"

He pulled his arm off of the door and straightened when he saw the grim expression on the elder Amicitia's face. That was concerning, even though Clarus often looked serious. He rarely did at home so that Iris wouldn't have to worry about anything— his sister lived a privileged life without any firm tasks, just some training to be sure she could handle herself.

"You will not be seeing Prince Noctis for training."

Gladiolus knew his expression had tightened with worry. The last time their training session was cancelled was because Noctis fell asleep after practicing warping and wouldn't wake up. It took him three days, and he'd been dazed and narcoleptic. The tendency to fall asleep anywhere and at any time had lessened but never gone away. The tall brunette wracked his brain, trying to think of anything that could have caused a similar occurrence. He could think of nothing.

"Is he hurt?", he asked, concern lacing his tone as he crossed around the side of the vehicle and approached his father. Clarus's gaze was steady, but then the older man sighed and put his hands on his hips.

"What I should have said is that you will not be seeing him anymore."

The words sent a jolt of hurt and shock through him.

"What? Why?", there was no way. It wasn't just his job, it was his heritage to look after the prince. His duty. He couldn't think of what he had done to be denied those things. Was it because of his tattoo? His father had one! Not as big, sure, and he might have expressed some disapproval, but…

"Some of the things you have shared with the prince are… Inappropriate. His Majesty and I have spoken and agreed that it will be better for Noctis if you are absent from his life." Clarus looked regretful, but unmoving on the issue. Gladiolus felt anger burn through his veins, and the urge to work it out physically was intense.

"What the- Are you saying that the King thinks I _touched_ Noct? I swear that I haven't done _anything-_ ", he wasn't a _pedophile!_ How could his own father think that?!

Clarus looked startled, his eyes widening.

"Gladiolus, you misunderstand me. Perhaps my phrasing was ambiguous, we are not accusing you of any improper conduct, but words." His father remained on the front porch, watching him, and Gladiolus felt incredibly worked up. His blood felt hot and his heart was beating fast.

"What the hell do you mean by that?", Gladiolus snapped. What the hell was going on?

Clarus's jaw tightened.

"Watch your mouth, Gladiolus. It's what's gotten you into trouble in the first place. It has not gone unnoticed that you beguile the prince with words against the Gods."

Gladiolus reared back, his hands clenching into fists. It was because he didn't believe in the _Gods?_ What ridiculousness— they couldn't be serious.

"Are you joking?", he asked, and took a few steps forward, "This is my job, my duty, and you're taking it away because I don't believe in some stupid fairy-tales?"

Clarus looked angry now, and that gave Gladiolus pause for concern. His father, when angered, was no measly opponent on either the battle-ground or in an argument.

"Reconsider-", he was cut off as Clarus raised a hand, holding it in front of himself in a gesture that meant _stop_ and _silence_.

"Your disrespect for the Gods is abhorrent. The prince holds you in high regard, and your words have had some effect on him", _Good_ , Gladiolus thought viciously, "which must now be corrected. You may not see him again. End of discussion."

Gladiolus stood, watching his father, trembling with anger and distress. How could he, how could the _King_ do this? It was Gladiolus's birthright and privilege, his future! And Noctis was his _friend!_

"Go, Gladiolus. I don't wish to see you again today."

So the son whipped around, tore his car door open after rounding the vehicle, slammed it shut, and peeled out of the Amicitia family driveway. He got a few blocks before he pulled over again and leaned his head back on his seat, his hands at ten and 2 on the steering wheel and gripping the leather so hard he was leaving indents.

 _What the hell_ , he thought, and closed his eyes to tame the anger and hurt running rampant through his brain. Just because he didn't believe in the Gods? Because Noctis didn't believe in the Gods anymore? How did they even find out? He'd been quiet about it, hadn't broadcasted it when the opinion was so reviled amongst the public. Noctis wasn't one to talk about it either! He _knew_ the prince wouldn't go around saying that Gladiolus didn't share the faith. He was smart enough to know when words would get someone into trouble, as the incident with Iris proved several years ago.

He opened his eyes and yanked his phone from his pocket, scrolling until he found Noctis in his messages. The last one was from the day before, the prince asking about using a heavier greatsword which had made Gladiolus _damned proud._

Did the King even pay attention enough to Noctis to care about the fact that he was doing so well in practice?

The thought was a dangerous one and he quickly put it out of his mind.

 _[Gladiolus: Noct, the hell is going on? -_ _5:47 AM_ _]_

It took an unusually long time to send, and when it did he was sent an automatic reply.

 _[Provider: The message could not go through. Your device may have been blocked by the receiving party. Please visit your local provider if the problem persists without explanation. -_ _5:50 AM_ _]_

"God damnit", he muttered, and scrolled through his messages until he found Ignis. He had started talking to the man when Noctis started training with him, as the bespectacled man was often the one to pick him up and take him to school. He hit call.

"C'mon… Pickup…"

There was a break in the ringing and then the sound of the call being answered.

" _Gladio_ ", Ignis's voice was quiet. Gladiolus was sure he knew just by the tone of it.

"What's happening?", he asked roughly, staring out at the little supermarket he had stopped at. There was a lady inside getting things ready, stocking shelves, only a few lights on.

" _I don't believe calling his highness is a wise option. The council is not fond of you right now, and they are monitoring the prince's devices._ " Ignis's voice sounded tense, even frustrated, " _I attempted to smooth things over, but once word got out…_ "

"How'd they even find out?", he asked, dropping the hand he had at the wheel to his back. He slouched in his seat, staring up at the roof instead of at the store. He didn't want to alarm the lady.

" _To my knowledge, one of the councilwomen mentioned something… Startling, to Noctis. He let slip that he doesn't believe, and they kept him in interrogations late into the night to discover where he had gotten such ideas._ " Ignis sounded angry, and Gladiolus could relate. The council interrogated the prince? Like he was an enemy?

"How the hell did the King let them get away with that? And what did she say to Noct?", he asked, tapping his fingers against his thigh.

" _The King was there_ ", Ignis said, and went quiet. Gladiolus could sense hesitation from him.

"What about what she said to Noct?", he asked, the silence making him paranoid. He was trying to guess, and trying to guess was freaking him out.

" _She said it would be tragic that he would have to die to save the country_ ", Ignis said, very quietly. Gladiolus jerked in his seat, sitting up from his low position, and looked out the windshield at the engine hood.

"What the fuck?"

" _It's my understanding that she has been suspended from the council for it, but she remained long enough for an argument to break out. I… I had no idea that the prophecy even hinted at Noctis's death_ ", the advisor sounded startled, concerned, and most definitely worried. Gladiolus felt very similarly.

"Neither did I. And they're taking this shit seriously? What the hell are they gunna do, offer him up for sacrifice?"

The uneasy silence on the other end of the line made him squeeze his thigh in alarm.

"Ignis, what the hell are they saying about the kid?", he asked sharply.

" _They grow quiet around me, but from what I've gathered… They expect him to perish on the throne, calling forth the Gods to save Lucis._ "

A heavy rock had settled in Gladiolus's stomach, and he swallowed dryly.

"They… What? They're gunna…?", it was unthinkable. How could the King support this? Calling forth the Gods, Gods who didn't even exist, by killing his son?

"What's the earliest he can take the throne?", he asked, heart hammering against his rib cage.

" _Sixteen. Gladio, we mustn't act hastily, the King seems to dislike the idea-_ "

"But he's going ahead with it right? Otherwise they wouldn't have blown a gasket at me. What the fuck…"

A long silence.

" _I must go. I'll call you again soon, keep your head down._ "

Gladiolus brought the phone down as the call ended and stared at it, flipping back to his messages with Noctis. The kid was bright, not entirely honest because Gladiolus had first-hand experience with how smoothly the prince lied, even at 12, and he was damned selfless.

It was the last that worried him.

With everything that was going on, increasing tensions between Lucis and Niflheim, the growing plague, would they convince the kid to die for them? They were two years away from legally being able to crown Noctis. Two years away from being able to kill him, and Gladiolus knew now that they must intend to. Why else would they get rid of any threat to their religious nonsense?

He couldn't let that happen to Noctis.

Gladiolus _would_ find a way to save him. He was Noctis's Shield— and he wouldn't give, even if the entire world was against them.


End file.
